Bent
by MaraudersAffair
Summary: A kiss may ruin a human life. RL.SB


_A kiss may ruin a human life. - Oscar Wilde_

"McCullough over there is fucking bent."

Sirius motions with his chin to a boy across the yard, his eyes darkening and forming little slits. He lounges next to Peter, looking at McCullough through his bangs. His stare fills with something that should be hatred, but it's too curious, too guarded, and his expression struggles with the enigma that he's feeling.

"How so?" Peter asks, furthering Sirius' troubled look. Remus is sprawled on his back next to him and he picks his head up, gazing down his legs at McCullough.

"He was staring at me - you know, how birds do when they want it."

Remus snorts and drops his head back to the ground, closing his eyes. Peter frowns to himself, watching Remus' reaction. He knows it's just the bloke's defence against the unknown - blow off those irking feelings with a snort - go back and try to pretend you like birds, Peter thinks. It upsets him when shit like this happens - when Sirius targets a poor bloke, always saying something like You just don't understand - he was staring at me!

Peter knows what the confusion and frustration is all about - he understands, even if Sirius doesn't, the total hatred he must feel for himself. But why did he have to take it out on random people - first Snivellus, then Sirius' own brother . . . now McCullough. If only Peter had enough guts to say something, if only he wasn't so afraid of Sirius' reaction. But Peter knew he would never take the chance - he didn't know if Sirius would just as easily turn on him, have him hanging in the air, his fat belly and underpants exposed for everyone to see.

Sirius crawls to his feet, his movements slow and careful. He strides over to McCullough, his face shining red, his cheeks and forehead slick with sweat, his eyes gleaming. Peter recognises the arousal there - in a creepy sort of way that makes him shift in his grassy seat.

He steals a glance at Remus, and he is not surprised to see the same expression on the bloke's face. And, Lord, his friends really are dunderheads. Could his friends not see how they responded to each other? Could they not hear the muffled moans coming from their beds in the dead of night? Peter could, when he was trying to sleep - those annoying sounds like whispered secrets waking him. Deep moans that made him squeeze his eyes shut and throw a pillow over his head, his heart beating faster than normal.

Peter looks at McCullough, and he realises the poor bloke looks like Remus. Same thin, almost fragile looking frame - with unkempt brown hair and slight shoulders. His eyes are different though, but Sirius isn't looking at his eyes when the first hex hits the boy. He is staring at Remus, and their eyes lock for a long moment. It's a hard stare - one that's filled with loathing and desire and lust, everything they seem to disregard and push to the back of their minds, hoping to forget.

Only taking his eyes off Remus to aim, Sirius hits McCullough with another hex. The boy withers on the ground, crying and moaning and screaming why in a high, boyish tone. McCullough's friends start to fight back - pelting Sirius with hexes. Peter wonders what's taking Remus so long to step in, because he always does. He always jumps in and throws his arms around Sirius, pulling him away as he whispers in his ear. He does it to calm him down, but Peter suspects Remus likes the feel of Sirius in his arms, against his chest - that heat against his sweater, seeping through to his skin.

A stinging hex hurls past Remus' head. He suddenly blinks, tearing his eyes away from Sirius. Peter scrambles to his feet with Remus, wands in hand. He allows Remus to step ahead of him as they stride to Sirius' side. Remus puts his hand up, yelling Stop!. He looks at Sirius, his expression surprisingly cold.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Remus asks in a low tone, his teeth bare and his brow furrowed.

Sirius clenches his jaw, the muscles straining in his neck. He stares at Remus. "What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you - stopping me like that!"

"You didn't have to do it!" Remus yells, his voice becoming louder. "McCullough didn't do anything to you!" He grabs the front of Sirius' sweater, his fingers curling into the fabric, shaking.

"Let go of me!" Sirius tries to push Remus away, but the hold is too strong. He starts to struggle, twisting in Remus' grasp, clawing at his arms. Remus pulls him even closer, and Peter can see that his whole body is trembling. Sirius' eyes widen as their chests touch, and he brings a fist up, punching Remus in the jaw.

Remus releases his hold in shock, one hand coming up to caress his face. His expression is full of hurt as he watches Sirius storm off. Peter can almost see tears in his eyes.

He looks at Peter. "Stay here. I'll go talk to him."

**.:.**

Remus' whole jaw aches, the pain shooting to his teeth and lips. It's a numbing pain, one that seems to dull the pounding in his head. He takes sharp breathes as he follows Sirius, his chest heavy against his own lungs. He tries to swallow, but his mouth is dry and sticky. An unsettling feeling curls in the pit of his stomach, tingling and twisting. He won't admit to himself why he feels this way, tries to block out the sensation of Sirius' chest against his own.

He can still feel Sirius' hot breath against his face, almost scalding him with its musky smell. Oh, God - he hates it, hates the way it makes him feel. He is ashamed that a bloke makes him feel this way, makes him shake and crave and lose his control. He shouldn't have yelled at Sirius - he knew it would only upset him. But he wanted that reaction from Sirius, his blood pumped through his veins just for the way Sirius looked when he was angry. He could only describe it as beautiful, and as he follows Sirius around a corner, his heart starts to beat even faster.

"Sirius! Stop!" Remus yells, running up to catch him.

Sirius glances over his shoulder at Remus, suddenly twisting around to shove him into the wall. "Get away from me!"

Remus starts at the feel of Sirius' strong hands against his chest, grabbing at his shoulders. Their eyes lock and Remus realises that they are both breathing loudly. Sirius pushes him even harder into the wall, the sharp stones stabbing into Remus' back. He can feel that pressure in his body, building up and expanding outward. His fingers go numb as they enlace themselves into Sirius' soft hair, pulling Sirius closer. Remus can't think - his mind practically hurts. He crushes his mouth against Sirius', and an invisible balloon deep inside bursts with relief and hunger and oh, Sirius is kissing him back, urgent lips seeking their purchase.

He moans despite himself, and he waits for Sirius to wake up and push him away, to call him a pouf. He waits, but nothing happens - and suddenly Sirius is moving against him, rolling his hips and moaning in unison with Remus. He feels as if he will explode, and he claws at Sirius' neck, thrusting back into him.

Sirius drops his head down to his shoulder, choking for air. He pulls away from Remus and slides down to the ground. Remus follows him, their shoulders pressing together, the wall cold against his back. Remus doesn't know what to say - the silence is heavy between them. He can't look at Sirius, so he stares at the scuffs on his shoes instead.

"I - I'm sorry," Sirius whispers, his head turned away. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Don't apologise," Remus says, looking up at Sirius. "I've wanted to do that since fourth year."

Sirius turns his head toward Remus, a slight smile on his lips. "Really?"

Remus nods and then laughs. "Yeah."

"Me too," Sirius says, his smile now wide and beaming. "It was driving me crazy."

Remus laughs even harder, almost nervously. Sirius looks at him and brings a tentative hand up to cup Remus' jaw, soft fingers rubbing at the pain.

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispers, bringing his face closer. He hesitates only a second before softly kissing Remus. Remus feels Sirius sigh and he wraps his arms around him, leaning further into the kiss. He doesn't know if this makes it right - if this makes him a pouf, but he knows how it makes him feel.

The End

Author's Note: This was written back in 2006 for the Remus and Sirius holiday exchange over at Livejournal. It was meant to be short, so I won't be continuing it. Thanks so much for reading! :D


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